


Tender Aggression.

by scifitwee



Series: Tender Aggression. [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifitwee/pseuds/scifitwee
Summary: Mark takes a line, and drinks something that isn’t alcohol (alcohol isn’t thick and purple), and he keeps going until his body can’t take anymore. Another line, another drink, another pill, and then he hits the floor.He hits the fucking floor, and Ethan is pushing someone off of him to run over to Mark.
Relationships: Crankiplier, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: Tender Aggression. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882729
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	Tender Aggression.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, respect to the boys and they're partners, and if you are the boys god please do not read this.
> 
> If you're new here, please read part one to this series. it makes more sense (trust me).  
> Be wary of the tags and the triggers, thank you.

Ethan has come to terms with the fact that Mark has a facade that he keeps up pretty well.

In public, at work, at parties, at group therapy, and around Ethan. Sometimes late at night, after the show is over and he’s behind closed doors in rooms with hands under shirts and faces pressed into necks, he’ll let it fall. Almost if Ethan is a priest and Mark is in a confession booth telling Ethan his deepest darkest fantasies that are too sinful for the ears of angels. He confesses that maybe one of the times he overdosed was on purpose, and maybe every other time in the future is on purpose. He confesses that sometimes his blood feels like it’s carbonated and he wishes that his body didn’t constantly want to hurt himself or others, and maybe, just maybe, the scars on his arm weren’t from a freak accident story that was a cover up for the fact that Mark wasn’t the most stable back in the day (and continues not to be still).

Ethan held him close that night, and Mark was gone before Ethan woke up. They didn’t talk for a week after that, and that’s why he avoids asking Mark questions that are too invasive. Because he honestly doesn’t want to lose the last friend he has in his life. He knows Mark is tired, and worn out in this lifestyle, but Mark will go and go until he is flying two blunts deep with purgatory at his hips for any dying victim, and Ethan watches idly from his spot on the couch. 

Tonight was no different. Ethan was stashed away in his grimey spot on a couch with holes in it, turning away girls trying to flirt with him, and only keeping his eyes on the person he came with. Mark seemed especially off that night. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, Mark was himself. Bright smile filled with loud laughs, small words convincing Ethan that “this party is gonna be so good” and Mark promises him.  
Mark takes a line, and drinks something that isn’t alcohol (alcohol isn’t thick and purple), and he keeps going until his body can’t take anymore. Another line, another drink, another pill, and then he hits the floor.

He hits the fucking floor, and Ethan is pushing someone off of him to run over to Mark. Someone yells to call nine one-one, and Ethan is trying his best to get rid of the ringing in his ears while staring down at the lifeless body in front of him. Mark is overdosing. Mark is overdosing and Ethan has never felt worse than he ever has in any other moment in his life.

Now they’re here, and Ethan was laying next to Mark’s unmoving body. Being kept alive on IV’s and hopefulness, where Ethan pushes back his faded red hair to stare at the face in front of him. 

Many people point out other things on Mark, but they never point out the small set of freckles on his nose that the sun has caused, they’re barely noticeable but nonetheless important. And that makes Ethan realize he’s finally worn, that maybe this life isn’t cut out for him anymore. It was fun when he was freshly eighteen and only doing shit at parties, but now it’s different. He does it in bathrooms at restaurants and birthday parties that did not need him to be hyped off xans the whole time. Jesus christ, he doesn’t even remember graduation. Or any of high school for that matter. Mark’s arms are on display for Ethan to see, his dark hoodie that he always sported was thrown away. Which Ethan is semi thankful for, since the hoodie reeked of weed and over used cologne that would’ve never came out of that hoodie. Not to mention the vomit and blood that had gotten on it from the scene last night. Ethan’s mind flashes back to the moment, and he pushes fingers into his eyes until he sees colors.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself doing that.”  
Mark’s voice is silent, scratchy as he coughs up bile that is quickly caught into the trashcan next to the bed. Ethan stays eye to eye with Mark as the other lays back down. Ethan wipes vomit off his chin, and Mark slaps him away playfully.

“Mark,”  
Ethan starts, but his voice stops. He’s trying his best to think of words, but Mark’s tired eyes bore into his poor soul. And he hits the floor.

“Mark, what the fuck? You almost died, I- I watched you almost die.”

“I know.”

“Why? Why did you,-”  
Ethan feels his throat contort and his nerves pulse, Mark plays with the hospital band but his eyes show that he’s only focusing on Ethan’s words. 

“Mark, we have to fucking stop.”

“I know.”

“I could’ve died, you could’ve died.”

“I know.”  
Ethan cracks, and he grips the wrist with the bracelet on it, and Mark looks up.

“I’m being serious, Mark. I,- I love you way too much to watch you waste away like this. Please, tell me, what’s wrong.”  
They watch each other for a moment, as Ethan licks his lips. Mark stays silent, biting his lip with a death grip that could break the earth.

“You can’t run away from this one, please don’t shut me out like you always do.”  
It’s said to be more aggressive than he wants it to be, but it needs to be said in a way Mark knows it’s important. Mark sits up, covering his face with his hands.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Ethan.”  
He’s hunched over, and he’s crying, and Ethan has never seen Mark cry. Ethan lays a hand on the man’s back that ends up leading Mark into a hug. He cries, and Ethan cries, and they’re too sober to not cry. Ethan moves his hands to the sides of Mark’s head, looking at his puffy face.

“This,- This is done, starting today we are going to stop. We’re not going to lie anymore, we’re not going to fake it, we’re actually trying to get better this time.”  
Mark nods, and Ethan hugs him. They sob, and sob.

And Mark doesn’t run away this time.

**Author's Note:**

> decided to make this into a series bc why not, there will be one last part to this but yeah. thank you for all the nice comments and thank you for reading, it means more than you will ever know. <3


End file.
